Libby pulled back her shoulders, feeling the ache of tension that refused to leave. She had practiced her response to this scenario countless times over her life. Birth mother ignores me. Birth mother denies our past. Birth mother rejects me. How many times had she played out those scenarios in her head? Now faced with leaving a message for her birth mother, she wondered what tone would best fit her well-rehearsed words. Should she summon outrage, a cheerful ring, or a “no big deal; I am fine” tone?

“This is Libby McKenzie.” Her voice sounded rough, and she was not sure where she fell on the tone spectrum. “Elaine, if you could call me at your earliest convenience, I would appreciate it.”

She hung up and spent the next five minutes staring at the display, half expecting, hoping, and dreading it would ring. But it remained silent.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ELAINE

Monday, June 15, 2020

The Woodmont Estate

Elaine stared into the bathroom mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hands were trembling slightly. For thirty-one years she had dreamed about the day she could spend with her daughter. She had gone over and over in her head what she would say to her but still did not have the words that felt right.

And when Libby’s name had appeared on her phone, she had panicked and had not picked up. Last night had not gone as smoothly as she had hoped. Lofton had been difficult, and as much as she had wanted to rail against her before she left this morning, she did not have it in her. Lofton was a smart young woman and very good at seeing what others did not. Elaine had known from the moment Lofton had taken a hard look at Libby she had recognized a family connection.

For most of her life, Elaine had pictured Libby as a little girl. The McKenzies had sent Elaine pictures on each of Libby’s birthdays. The one taken on her first birthday was always the one she looked at when she needed a lift. Libby’s little face was covered in cake as she grinned up at the camera, displaying her three teeth. At age two, she was standing on a field of green with a black Lab puppy. At six, her grin was gap toothed.

Elaine had always waited with excitement for the pictures to arrive and would spend hours staring at Libby’s face, searching for traces of her own features. Whose nose did she have? Did they share the exact same shade of green eyes? The comparisons were endless.

The pictures of the smiling girl confirmed Elaine had made the right decision. But it also drove home the ache that never healed, even when Lofton was born. She had two children, and not having her firstborn with her was a forever kind of wound that would never fully heal.

“Libby is here now,” she whispered. “That’s what matters.”

She wanted this to work, to build a bridge to her daughter. But she had been warned by the experts to go slow. It could not be rushed.

And then there was the matter of Lofton. Her youngest daughter had been unusually antagonistic last night, as if she understood exactly who she had met, even though Elaine had been careful to guard her secret.

Her phone rang, and when she saw the name, she smiled. “Ted, are you safely back in Washington?”

“Made it ahead of the traffic and sitting at my office desk. Sorry again I had to leave.”

“It was nice having you here.”

“How are you feeling? Yesterday was a big day.”

Her husband had known about Libby since their third date. She had known then she was in love with him but needed him to accept her child. He had never faltered, smiling when she had shown him the three birthday pictures the McKenzies had sent her.

“I’m doing fine,” she said. “It was so lovely to have Libby here again.”

“She has your nose.” It had been his first response when she had shown him her precious collection of Libby pictures. The sincerity behind his words had deepened her love for him, and she had known then she would marry him.

“What was going on with Lofton last night?” he asked. “It’s not like her to be rude.”

“It’s as if she knew the truth.”

“How?”

“She’s not only smart but also perceptive, Ted,” Elaine said. “Did she ask you about Libby?”

“No, but she does suspect something. It would be like Lofton to pretend she knows more than she does, hoping you’ll spill the beans. I stopped falling for that trick when she was in the seventh grade.”

Elaine smiled, remembering how the freckles had stretched over the bridge of Lofton’s nose at that age.

“Are you worried about telling Lofton the truth?” Ted asked.

“She has to be told at some point. And this kind of truth rarely stays hidden forever.”

In the background a car beeped. “Why do you sound worried?” he asked.

She rubbed the side of her neck. “Libby just called me this morning.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“After last night, judging by the tone of her voice in the message, I think she must know.”

“How?”

“I gave Olivia’s letter to her father last November. She may have found it.”

Silence crackled over the line, and she knew Ted was holding back his thoughts on Dr. McKenzie. He had never been happy about keeping the secret but always respected Elaine’s wish. “She seems like a fine woman, Elaine.”

Elaine knotted her brow. “She is. I can’t claim her, but I’m proud.”

“Why can’t you claim her?”

“I didn’t raise her.”

“But she has your DNA in her. That’s a big part of who she is.”

“The McKenzies did a great job with her.”

“And yet they couldn’t have done anything without you.”

She raised her chin. “I know. I just have so much regret.”

“You need to call her back.”

“What if I tell Libby the truth, and she ends up hating me?”

“Either way, you’ll have done right by her, Elaine.”

“She’s had such a terrible few years with the miscarriages and the divorce. What if I’m simply a bridge too far?”

“Libby has a right to know.”

“Ted, I gave her away. How can she forgive that?”

“You didn’t give her away.”

As many times as he said it, Elaine still did not believe it. “I feel like I’ve betrayed her.”

“Do you think twenty-two-year-old Elaine could have raised her?”

She pressed her hand to her forehead. She had asked the same question so many times she had worn down the finish of the words. “Grandmother Olivia didn’t think so.”

“You know how I feel about your grandparents’ lack of support,” Ted said.

“They were very old world. Girls who got pregnant in their day were shunned. She was fearful for me. And especially considering what my grandfather did to girls like me back in the day.”

When Elaine had told her grandmother about the pregnancy, Olivia had told her all about the hospital in Lynchburg where her grandfather had worked. Then she sent Elaine to a small New Jersey town to live with an old friend of hers whom Elaine did not know. The woman was kind and helped Elaine through the last months of her pregnancy. Elaine had felt so isolated.

Her grandmother made it very clear that Elaine had a bright future, but it did not include a baby. Olivia also forbade Elaine to mention the baby to her grandfather. When Libby was eight days old, Elaine had been moved into the apartment she would inhabit during law school.